PS 3505 




oems of 
Comradeship 
Courage and 
Hope 



By 

REV. A. L. CRAWLEY, M. A. 




REV. A. L. CRAWLEY, M. A. 



Poems of Comradeship, 
Courage and Hope 



BY 

REV. A. L. CRAWLEY, M. A. 

Louisville, Kentucky 



PRICE 25 CENTS 



MAYES PRINTING COMPANY 
Louisville. Ky. 



T5 2 -"'^^ 



Copyright, 1913 
A. L. CRAWLEY 



(&CI.A362101 



>^ 






DEDICATION 



To Rev. and Mrs. J. W. Crawley, my fond and faithful 
father and mother, through whose patient sacrifices, loving 
ministries, and beneficent influences, I have received not my 
life only, but also the direction and chief inspiration for its 
unselfish and noble use, this little volume is affectionately 
dedicated. 



PREFACE. 



THIS little book is sent out in the earnest hope that it may- 
stir all who read it to a nobler service of others, inspire 
the discouraged to hope and heroic endeavor, and prove a com- 
fort and blessing to any who are sad and disconsolate. It is 
peculiarly suited to help the pastors in their work, especially 
among the bereaved. It has therefore been prepared in this 
inexpensive, yet beautiful gift-form, so that ministers and all 
others who find its messages helpful may extend its ministries 
by placing it in the hands of any friends to whom they feel it 

may be a blessing. 

The Author. 



CONTENTS. 

P3.S6 

PART I— Poems of Comradeship. 

My Friend 10 

Dedicatory Poem 11 

A Tribute to Father and Mother 12 

The Crossings „ 18 

My Wish 18 

April Fool „ 19 

I Would See Jesus 20 

The Pattern of Life 21 

Who are the Great 22 

If We Were Only Kind 23 

Two Types of Life 25 

PART II— Poems of Courage. 

Hope 28 

The Panacea ,.. 29 

The New Neighbor 30 

Kings of the Earth 31 

The Secret of Strength 31 

Champions of a Worthy Cause 32 

Which ? 33 

Would You Be Great? 34 

Mystery 35 

The Drummer Boy 36 

Step By Step 38 

PART III— Poems of Hope. 

Transfigured Clouds 42 

A Flower's Message 43 

Whether or Not 49 

O Ye Who are Sorrowing 50 

Love Never Faileth 51 

The Shepherd Heart 52 

The Glory Ineffable 54 

All-Wise and Good 56 

Stronger than Death 58 

The Gathered Flowers ,. 59 

All Is Well 60 



PARTI 

Poems of Comradeship 



Y 



MY FRIEND. 

OU wish for me the best gift God can send? 
Then come, with nothing to pretend, 
And be, I recommend. 
Unto the end, 

MY FRIEND. 



POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 11 



DEDICATORY POEM. 



THESE bits of music stolen from the Muses 
To voice my own emotion, I now give 
To others, hoping that whoe'er peruses 

Their messages may learn to nobler live. 



These fragments frail, and so without connection, 

May, to the rest of men, seem little worth. 
Wherefore, this book, with true and fond affection, 
I dedicate to those who gave me birth. 



Not that I hope to pay for the vast store 

Of blessings they have lavished on their boy; 

But they, who've borne with all I've done before. 
Will bear with this, and find in it a joy. 



12 POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 

A TRIBUTE TO FATHER AND MOTHER. 

WHEN we think of all the blessings 
Of our home with all its cheers, 
From the first sweet fond caressings 

Full of tenderness and tears, 
We discover as we ponder 
On the blissful days back yonder, 
That our hearts are growing fonder 
With the years. 

Fonder each of all the others, 
Tho' pursuing different goals, 
Widely sundered from our mother's 

And our father's kind controls. 
But our memories bring before us 
All the care so constant o'er us 
On the part of those who bore us — 
Faithful souls. 

They were poor but we were treasures. 
And our fellowship was great. 

Sharing daily all the pleasures 
Of our common blessed fate. 

Of the nine in mercy given 

There remain now only seven. 

Two have gone before to heaven 
And await. 

Those the greatest grief sustaining. 
Seem to grow in childward care. 
For the sake of those remaining 

Willing still to do and dare; 
Waiting, toiling; little knowing 
They to us are dearer growing 
All the time they 'bide their going 
Over there. 



POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 13 

While our father followed duty. 

Seeking other souls to save, 
'Twas our mother with the beauty 

Of her life so pure and brave, 
Who, the while we were so tender. 
Often was our sole defender. 
And with perfect self-surrender 
Was our slave. 

Those first years without a record 

In our memories, we prize, 
For they speak to us of checkered 

Joy and pain and sacrifice; 
When a fevered brow was burning. 
Oh, the watching and the yearning, 
Mother stooping or returning 
To our cries! 

Many were the hours dreary. 

When our father was away. 
That she kept her vigils weary 

Thro' the midnight to the day; 
With a mother's true emotion. 
Self-forgetful in devotion, 
Letting love's resistless ocean 
Have its way. 

Oh, how patient in her serving! 

Oh, what willingness of mind! 
Never failing, never swerving, 

From the path which love assigned; 
Firm in duty as Gibralter; 
Seeing it, she did not falter; 
Laid herself upon its altar 
Well resigned. 



14 POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 

We recall with feelings tender, 

Childhood's happy, early days. 
When all life was lit with splendor 

And the brightest of its rays 
Centered in her love maternal, 
Love which made all seasons vernal, 
For its sunshine glowed eternal 
On her face. 

Something magical about her 

Healed our wounds and stilled our breast. 
What could we have done without her 

Tender hands to lay to rest! 
Hands that toiled in love so sweetly 
As she gave herself completely 
To her brood which all too fleetly 
Left the nest. 

She was happy in foregoing 

What we could not all enjoy, 
For she found her joy in knowing 

That she gave to others joy; 
And we'll never cease to thank her 
For her love which as an anchor 
Held us back from sins that canker 
And destroy. 

Angels somehow seem to hover 

Near when mother is around 
Even yet. And how we love her. 

For her mother heart is found 
Just as faithful now as ever. 
Just as full of kind endeavor, 
For the mother spirit never 
Can be bound. 



POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 16 

Daughters who forget her pleading, 

Sons who reckless grow and wild. 
Find in her the friend they're needing. 

When forsaken or defiled; 
Surely then there is no other. 
Even father, sister, brother. 
Who can take the place of mother 
With her child. 

Mother has been true to father 

And the work he's had to do. 
Ne'er complaining but the rather 

Speaking words to keep him true; 
Bracing, when his strength was broken; 
And her love, tho' seldom spoken. 
Gives her whole life as a token 
Of its hue. 

They are suited to each other 

As the two halves of a whole; 
Father serves the poor while mother 

Feels 'tis by divine control; 
Loved by all who ever knew her. 
He could not have found a truer, 
So unselfish and so pure 
Is her soul. 

Happy father, truly mated! 

For his burdens and his care 
Would have been too much unaided 

For his feeble frame to bear: 
Cares of home and its condition; 
Cares attending his position; 
Care of souls who face perdition 
And despair. 



16 POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 

There was yet a higher power 
Which enabled him to meet 
DiflBculties and to tower 

Over them with conquering feet, 
For the One who taught him meekness 
Gave him strength for all his weakness, 
Taking out of life its bleakness 
And defeat. 

For his way has long been rougher 
Than the highway of the throng, 

But through all he's had to suffer 
He has never dreamed 'twas wrong; 

He awaits the explanation 

At the final consummation, 

And his trustful resignation 
Makes him strong. 

Oh, what grandeur! Oh, what merit 
In that father for his son! 

What a boon could he inherit 
All his virtues one by one! 

For the truth in love contending; 

Faith and action fitly blending; 

Stooping without condescending, 
As the sun 

Reaches into foulest places 

With its warm and radiant glow 
Giving life, yet bears no traces 

Of contamination; so 
In the midst of life's mad racing. 
We have felt his influence bracing 
For the struggles we are facing 
As we go. 



POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 17 

To this father, true evangel 

Of the message of the Lord, 
And to mother, like an angel 

Yoked with him in sweet accord. 

In these words so feebly spoken. 
Words so faltering and broken. 
Love's sincere but humble token 
We record. 

They will pardon stammering verses 

And our trembling hopes and fears. 
While we praise the Lord for mercies 

Past and whisper in his ears 

This one prayer: "They're precious to us. 

Father, grant in love to view us, 

And in mercy spare them to us 

Many years." 



18 POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 

THE CROSSINGS. 

SINCE paths of best friends must diverge 
Tliat are not destined to be single. 
It gives deliglit wlien they converge 

And cross and intermingle. 
Thus real delight, is ever mine, 

Songs often rise and grief doth soften, 
For that our paths do intertwine 

And cross and meet so often. 
The crossing places rest our feet. 
For when old comrades kindly meet 
It leaves the life of each more sweet. 



MY WISH. 

MAY the years on before 
Hold rich blessings in store 
For you greater than any yet given, 
May the Lord guard and bless you 
And nothing distress you. 

Because of the favor of heaven. 

May your journey grow sweeter, 
Your pleasures completer, 

Each day and each hour and each minute. 
May your influence grow stronger 
And sweeter the longer 

You live, because Jesus is in it. 



POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 19 



APRIL FOOL. 



LIFT me from the abyss, love, 
By receiving one sweet kiss, love, 
Which I would to you impart, 

Angel dear, my own sweetheart; 
O, it could not be amiss, love, 
If you love me, to let this, love. 

Bid my lingering doubts depart 
And thus give a moment's bliss, love. 
To an aching heart. 



I would not be indiscreet, love. 

But I know it would be sweet, love. 

If upon your lips were pressed 

Such a kiss as I suggest. 
If you like the first 'tis meet, love. 
That you finish up my treat, love. 

And this favor I request; 
For they're all for you to eat, love, 

One and all the rest. 



20 POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 



I WOULD SEE JESUS. 



WHEN as a child, in innocence I mounted 
To mother's knee, or stood beside her chair 
And heard her tell how Jesus blessed the children, 
I wept because I was not with Him there. 



And when in youth, I felt my heart's pollution 
And knew I could not take away its stain, 

My soul cried out in anguish for a Savior 
And Jesus heard and made me clean again. 



And all along when tasks have been too heavy, 
Or Satan has my soul severely tried, 

I've felt a need for some strong friend to help me 
Which only Jesus Christ has satisfied. 



My heart is hungry still, I would see Jesus, 
See Him and know Him better than before; 

The more I know of Him, the more I love Him, 
To know Him is to long to know Him more. 



POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 21 



THE PATTERN OP LIFE. 

The Prince of Life came down to earth 
•■• To teach us how to live. 
He loved as we should learn to love, 
He gave as we should give. 



To bless mankind He left His throne 
And came down from the skies. 

To save the world He gave Himself 
A willing sacrifice. 



Then surely man can not be true 
And bless the world by living 

Unless he toil for other's sake 
And save his life by giving. 



He who thus lives unselfishly 
Fulfills his highest call, 

But he who lives for self alone 
Shall lose his life, his all. 



22 POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 

WHO ARE THE GREAT? 

THAT greatness and service are wedded, 
Was taught by the Greatest of men, 
Who proved it on earth, and is living 
In the hearts of the millions since then. 



Time was, when position was honored 
And prized above genuine worth, 

When men could mount up by oppression 
An build themselves thrones in the earth: 



But the time has come or is coming 
When the selfish in high estate. 

By all shall be properly labeled 
Contemptible rather than great; 



When the rich who, in idle indulgence. 

Are careless of other men's ill 
Shall be classed with the thief and the beggar, 

But held more contemptible still. 



For not the exalted are great 

Whose ambitions are selfish and sordid 
But those who are suffering to serve 

Without thinking of being rewarded. 

No matter how lowly the station, 
Or how small is the kindness done; 

For in highest position, and humblest, 
The spirit of greatness is one. 



POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 23 

And all who are self-forgetful 
In service of home or of state, 

All who live to make other lives happy- 
Have a place in the list of the great. 



The pathway may often be rugged, 
But, ah! it is only more glorious 

For those who in toiling upward 
Pass over the barriers, victorious. 



IF WE WERE ONLY KIND. 



A LITTLE child of three or four 
Was passing by her neighbor's door 
To join a party, quick, 
Of other children down the street, 
When in the tall grass at her feet 
She heard a little chick. 



'Twas wet with dew and cold and weak, 
And seemed some help from her to seek 

While help was worth the giving. 
It cried as if to make her learn 
That if she waited to return 

She would not find it living. 



24 POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 

And so she stopped there on her way. 
Where she could hear her friends at play. 

This tender-hearted chappie. 
She gently pulled her cloak apart 
And placed the chicken near her heart 

And soon 'twas warm and happy. 

But happier the little child, 

Who found the mother hen and smiled. 

And gave her back her stray; 
And happier was everyone 
Who saw, that day, what she had done 

By stopping on her way. 

O little child, help us today 
To learn along our busy way. 

To stop where'er we find 
A life discouraged, weak and sad, 
That might be strong and full and glad 

If we were only kind. 

Help me and all mankind to know 
■ 'Tis deeds of love the world needs so, 

And not strict acts of duty. 
A simple act of love may start 
A new life coursing thro' the heart — 

A life of joy and beauty. 

Along our pathway, waiting still, 

With shattered hopes and weakened will. 

Discouraged in the strife, 
Are those who perish day by day 
Because we stop not on our way 

To warm them back to life. 



POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 25 

TWO TYPES OF LIFE 



TWO types of people, as of old, 
The grasping and the giving, 
Abound today; the one, controlled 
By selfish passion, seeks for gold; 
The other rightly still doth hold 
A life more than a living. 



The men of Babel, proud, self-willed. 

With haughty plans abounded; 
For self alone they sought to build, 
But God their selfish prospects chilled 
And they, with purpose unfulfilled. 
Were scattered and confounded. 



But Abraham a great bequest 

Unto the world has given: 
He gave to God all he possessed. 
And God through him the world hath blest 
And built for him and all the rest 

A tower that reaches heaven. 



Whoe'er, with selfish cares engrossed, 

Forgets his needy brothers. 
Lives for himself at awful cost 
For thus his soul itself is lost; 
But he finds most who seeks the most 

To meet the needs of others. 



26 POEMS OF COMRADESHIP 

Who gives his life in Jesus' name 

To man, shall lose it never; 
But they who live for pleasure, fame 
Or wealth, at length shall find the same 
Has flared a moment like a flame 
And then gone out forever. 



PART II 

Poems of Courage 



28 POEMS OF COURAGE 



HOPE. 

DARK storms may beat about my feet 
And hail around me pour, 
But then I'll know as on I go, 
" 'Tis brighter on before." 

The sun may shine with rays benign 

Upon the path I tread, 
But still I'll say, along my way, 

" 'Tis better on ahead." 



POEMS OF COURAGE 29 



THE PANACEA. 



THE hearts of men are weighed with care and weari- 
ness and sin, 
And in their bondage long for rest and strive some 

peace to win ; 
But strive in vain to rest their souls and throw aside 

their load 
Until they feel the greater love and stronger hand of God. 



But being justified by faith, a calm and heavenly peace. 
That passeth understanding, brings the coveted release; 
Then joy prevails instead of gloom, though tribulation 

rolls. 
Because the love of God is shed abroad within their souls. 



And trial worketh patience then, and patience hope begets; 
Then let us all rejoice in hope and, ceasing from our frets, 
Let patience have her perfect work as wrote the one of old; 
For at the rainbow's end of hope we'll find the crown of 
gold. 



30 POEMS OP COURAGE 

THE NEW NEIGHBOR. 

SIT down Dad upon that pad and while Amanda brings 
some candy 
And some fruit in, as is suitin' be recruitin' from your 
walk. 
While we're sittin' here a-gittin' rested we can be a-speak- 
in' — 
Whil3 a-waitin' and a-eatin' we can talk. 

Let me see! it seems to me, if not mistaken, you was makin' 
An inquiry 'bout the wiry and the fiery little man — 

That 'ar feller with the yeller hat an' dirt upon his shirt 
Who was a-bustlin' and a-hustlin' round the Ian'. 

That was Druin, he's a new one 'mong the neighbors and 
he labors 

Just a-stewin' at renewin' all the ruin everywhere. 
Since his movin' the improvin' Mr. Druin's been a-doin' 

Day and night, it is a sight, I do declare! 

He's commencin' now the fencin' and such fencin' there 
is sense in, 
For he's takin' time and makin' a good stake-'n'-rider 
fence. 
And all the carin' and repairin' Mr. Druin is a doin' 
Night and mornin' is a warnin' just immense! 

My old shack has gone to rack while I was layin' round 
and stayin' 
Still, instid o' gettin' rid o' every bit o' wreck and ruin; 
But I'm goin' to make a showin' for I've yarned if I ain't 
larned 
To be stirrin' from that fureign Billy Druin. 



POEMS OF COURAGE 31 

KINGS OP THE EARTH 

THE kings of the nations die and their scepters are 
wielded by others, 
The monuments over their graves, as the ages advance, 

fall and crumble; 
But the strong men of every age who offer themselves 

on the altar 
Of the needs of the world are enthroned in the hearts 

of the people and crowned 
With a chaplet of undying love as kings of the earth 

forever. 



THE SECRET OF STRENGTH. 

SIR Galahad, the pure, was wholly right 
When, speaking of the wonder of his might. 
He said the secret was, he'd lived apart 
From weakening sin, and kept a pure heart. 

The true machinist ever is alert 
To keep all bearings free from grime and dirt, 
He knows the loss of power that rust will mean 
And strives to keep all polished bright and clean. 

As gardeners keep the weeds from out the soil 
By constant-watch-care and persistent toil. 
Tending the useful plants through seasons long; 
So must he tend his soul who would be strong. 



32 POEMS OF COURAGE 

CHAMPIONS OF A WORTHY CAUSE. 



WE'RE champions of a worthy cause 
We battle for the right, 
We must not rest, but do our best 
To triumph in our fight. 



Our righteous cause, no quitter needs, 

The battle has begun 
To cease no more till life is o'er 

Or victory is won. 



We must prevail; we can prevail; 

And so, prevail we will; 
For tho' we meet what seems defeat, 

Our cause will conquer still. 



So, when our efforts seem to fail. 

We will not fail to try; 
For the cause we aid is stronger made 

To triumph by and by. 



Then let's keep fighting manfully 
Howe'er our cause shall fare. 

And even tho' we lose below. 
We'll win a crown up there. 



POEMS OF COURAGE 33 

WHICH? 

TWO children play together in the home: 
One learns to curb his passions and desires, 
The other yields to both; 
Thus, one asserts his will to be a master. 
The other is content to be a slave. 



Two boys have their daily tasks assigned: 
The one, with willing hand, performs his work 
And soon he learns to love it — 
A second step to greatness is achieved; 
The other, loving ease, becomes an idler. 



Two youths ascend a rugged mountain slope: 
The one, erelong, impatient with the toil, 
Gives up amid the fogs; 
The other stands at length upon the crest. 
Enraptured by the glory of the vision. 



Two young men enter college: but the one, 
All unprepared and disinclined to labor. 
Falls by the way, a failure; 
The other struggles on with aspiration 
Until he is an intellectual star. 



Two lives — and one has come to want and shame; 
Two lives — and one enjoys a worthy fame. 
"Who are these men?" you ask. 
One or the other sits in every pew; 
Look to yourself, for one of them is you. 



34 POEMS OF COURAGE 

WOULD YOU BE GREAT? 

WOULD you be great — a strong and sterling man 
Who sways his fellow-men? O, youth, you can. 
True greatness is not solely rank and might; 
It is that leadership which leads aright. 
A seed of greatness dwells in every heart; 
'Twill bear its fruit, if man perform his part. 

The seed of greatness like the com seed grows 
In soil abounding in its mortal foes; 
The clods that mar, the hostile thorns and weeds, 
That suck the sustenance on which it feeds. 
Must be subdued and plucked from out the soil 
By constant watch-care and persistent toil. 

True greatness is a gem of rarer worth 
Than all the precious jewels of the earth. 
Its cost is dearer, too; yet some despise 
This costly treasure, but the truly wise 
Endure the toil, the conflict, and the pain, 
With all its costs true greatness to obtain. 

The mastery of self; the search for light; 
Despising what is false, and loving right; 
Pointing and leading to the better way; 
This is the great man's work from day to day, 
Which to the world is like a ray of light 
Upon the way of one lost in the night. 

Would you be great? Yourself a servant prove, 

The love of empty honors is self-love; 

The giving up of self to other's needs, 

The sacrifice of self in loving deeds 

Of service to one's fellowmen is great; 

Begin today, why longer should you wait? 



POEMS OF COURAGE 

In climbing mountains, it is ever true, 
Who climbs the highest has the grandest view, 
So up the path to greatness, constant, hard. 
And earnest work will bring its sure reward. 
Nor birth nor wealth may long retain a crown, 
But persevering merit will not down. 

When noble hearts aspire to be great. 
Determined will and work will conquer fate. 
Then let your will be firm, your heart be strong; 
Espouse the right, make battle with the wrong; 
Take courage, rise, go onward, upward still; 
For they who can on earth are they who will. 



MYSTERY. 

O GOSPEL of Salvation; of man's sin; 
Of saving grace, Christ's dying on man's paxt; 
Of faith in Him that brings the change within; 
How many a wretched man with eyeless heart 
Rejects thy truths he cannot clearly see, 
Yet strains not at life's common mystery! 
His mental pride becomes his moral bane. 
But blessed are the faithful here below. 
Who can believe what they cannot explain, 
Who stagger not at what they may not know; 
Content until the resurrection morn. 
When we shall know as also we are known. 
That some things here should, by divine decree. 
Remain to finite minds a mystery. 



POEMS OF COURAGE 



THE DRUMMER BOY. 



A LITTLE boy, we are told, 
Whose courage we may boast, 
Served with Napoleon of old 
As drummer for his host. 



This mighty general had taught 

The lad to only beat 
Advances, so that when they fought 

He could not sound retreat. 



But once there came a crisis when, 
(As this our story goes), 

Napoleon with all his men 
Was beaten by his foes. 



So when he saw the field was lost 
And they had met defeat, 

He told the drummer of his host 
To beat a loud retreat. 



But the drummer answered back with pride, 

"I know not how to beat." 
And again commanded, he replied, 

"I cannot sound retreat." 



'What can you do," the general said. 

And quick the answer leapt: 
'I can beat a charge that will wake the dead 

Tho' in their graves they slept." 



POEMS OF COURAGE 37 



"Then beat a charge," Napoleon cried; 

And oh, how he did beat! 
And the soldiers rallying to his side 

Recovered their defeat. 

The tide was turned, the men were true, 

And 'twas a day of joy. 
But the palms of victory were due 

To that small drummer boy. 

Honor to him, who never gave 

A signal for defeat. 
And honor to all the noble brave 

Who will not sound retreat! 

Come, champions of a worthy cause; 

Learn how, in your distress. 
To turn, by God's appointed laws, 

Your failure to success. 

Stand firm, and with a mighty zeal 

Forge steadily ahead. 
And from your heart sound an appeal 

To rouse the sleeping dead. 



For men will rally when you beat 

A stirring forward blast; 
And make your cause which faced defeat 

Triumphant at the last. 



38 POEMS OP COURAGE 



STEP BY STEP. 

AH, well do I remember to this hour 
How, sitting under the persuasive power 
Of some great orator, in boyhood's day, 
I longed to follow in the selfsame way. 



Then, hearing how these giant-minded men 
Were moving others by their greater ken; 
How, only those prepared by education 
Were destined to be leaders of the nation; 



Reflecting what these clear-brained men had done 
To banish darkness and bring out the sun 
Of truth, which drives out error and makes free; 
Resolves to be among them swelled in me. 



But round my path which reached the longed-for height 
There gathered threatening storms and signs of night 
To hide my vision; but I kept the view. 
And hoped for what I longed to be and do. 



But then the means required to meet the need! 
The many forms to clothe and mouths to feed, 
Which were dependent on my father's care! 
I turned my eyes to heaven with a prayer. 



Pressing my longing heart to God above. 
Thinking of, first His power, and then His love, 
I cast my care upon Him, with the plea; 
"Lord, I can leave it all, it all with Thee. 



POEMS OF COURAGE 39 

"Though clouds above my cherished plans do stray, 
And cast this fitful darkness o'er my way; 
However barred my future seems to be, 
O, God, with child-like faith I cling to Thee. 

"For Thou didst give the vision in the past; 
And, though ambition's door seems bolted fast. 
Thou canst unlock the way. So, though there seems 
No chance to realize my fondest dreams; 



"Though poverty and varied cares arise 
To tell me that I shall not realize 
The fond and yearning hopes to do and be 
What once the golden future held for me; 



"Though every circumstance now seems to say, 
'Young man, there is no way! there is no way 
That you may ever educated be!' 
I'll not despair, O Lord, but trust in Thee. 



"For this I know: though long and dark the day. 
With Thee, my Lord, my God, there is a way; 
And since the way I do not, cannot see, 
'Tis sweet, O Lord, to trust and follow Thee." 



As years have passed between that time and now, 
The way has opened up, I know not how; 
I only know that step by step I've gone, 
Not seeing far ahead; and still go on 



40 POEMS OF COURAGE 

The ever-rising way, which as I go 

Opens before me. How, I do not know; 

But thinking o'er the way which I have trod, 

My heart responds, "It was the hand of God." 



So, step by step, thus far I have been led; 
And, step by step, I shall, with God o'erhead 
And steady will within, keep on my way 
Till partial sight gives place to perfect day. 



PART III 

Poems of Hope 



42 POEMS OP HOPE 



T 



TRANSFIGURED CLOUDS. 

HE cloud, so dark at noon, was past at one 
And bathed in glory at the set of sun. 



So shall the clouds of every child of God, 
Which seemed so dark above the way he trod. 

Be seen transfigured, from the home above, 
Bathed in the light of God's eternal love. 



POEMS OF HOPE 43 

A FLOWER'S MESSAGE 
I. 



1 SAUNTERED yesterday into the woods 
■■■ To rest awhile in meditation there. 
And as I loitered underneath the trees 
In silent converse with the varied forms 
Of life around me, each assumed a voice 
And spoke in language that I understood 
Its own peculiar message to my soul; 
And one of these I now attempt to tell. 



II. 

I stood before a lonely flower which grew 

Upon a mossy bank, with brilliant hue 

And sweet perfume; and standing there I watched, 

While insects from its petals sucked their food 

And then away, some to the storehouse flew. 

While others, with their pollen-laden feet. 

To other flowers sped to get more food 

And leave the pollen there. As thus I stood 

And mused upon the scene inquiringly, 

The floweret spoke its message to my soul. 

For nature is not altogether mute, 

Since for the heart, which rapt in admiration 

Sits at her feet to learn her hidden secrets. 

She has a voice all overcharged with meaning, 

A language that she speaks to lovers only. 

And which no other soul could understand. 



44 POEMS OP HOPE 

III. 

And so for me, this flower had a message, 

As I was pondering what could be its mission, 

So lovely and so lonely in the world. 

That message said: "There are no lonely flowers, 

There's nothing lives alone in this vast world, 

There's nothing dies but leaves a work accomplished- 

A work without which earth were incomplete." 

So I sat down and pondered o'er her secret. 



IV. 

I caught the incense rising from the flower. 

And knew that God prepared that fragrant breath 

To guide the little insects to their food. 

Lodged in the calj'^x of the perfumed flowers; 

And so the flower was made to serve the bee. 

Yet I had only partly read the message — 

Had only somewhat understood the secret. 

Till feet of bees shook down a cloud of pollen. 

And then I saw the little bees were servants. 

Enticed by fragrant odors, charmed by colors, 

Varied and brilliant, on from flower to flower, 

Drinking the honeyed nectar from their bowls, 

And bearing on their feet unconsciously 

The germs that must be brought together so 

That seeds may form, wherefrom new flowers spring 

To propagate the species in the world. 

And so the bee was made to serve the flowers. 



POEMS OF HOPE 45 



And then I saw the mutual tie that binds 

In one, the living fragments of the world; 

How all the forms of life are linked together 

To serve each other and the will of God; 

How aptly every service gets its meed; 

How faithfully the mutual debts are paid; 

How ready each to serve the other's need, 

According to a universal law 

Whose obligations only man ignores. 

When will that perfect reciprocity, 

Which so prevails between the flowers and bees, 

Hold universal sway among mankind? 



VI. 

So this, the flower's message is for man; 

As also are the bees and flowers themselves. 

The nectar in the calyx of the flower 

Not only wins the service of the bee 

And pays him well for all the service done. 

But better still, it furnishes to man 

The richest feast allowed to mortal tongue; 

For honey is the product of the flowers 

Prepared by bees for man. So bees and flowers, 

While serving one another, serve mankind. 



46 POEMS OF HOPE 

VII. 

We speak of independence. We forget 

That life itself consists of its relations 

And grows as its relations grow in number. 

And as a better use of them is made. 

Becoming independent is to die. 

What says this flower? "There is no independence, 

For everything in nature, great and small, 

Is linked into a vast inseparable whole, 

With every part dependent on the rest, 

And every part a service to perform. 

Not only do the small things serve the great, 

The great, too, serve the small." 



VIII. 

So spoke the flower. 

How full of meaning is its little secret! 

And still for man it has a sweeter message. 

The insect scents the rose. But is that all? 

Was not its fragrance always meant for man? 

Oh, what a wealth of language and of love 

The flowers breathe to those bowed down with grief! 

And how they seem to teach us we can live 

So that the fragrance of our lives shall bless 

And sweeten all about us, and shall help 

To counteract the stench that's in the world. 



POEMS OF HOPE 47 

IX. 

The colors, too, which glorify the flowers. 
Were meant for you and me and aU that have 
A soul that can enjoy them. Beauty, sweets 
And fragrance, one and all, were well designed 
To serve, delight and bless the human race. 
And therefore do I revel in their feast, 
And drink their message with a thankful joy. 
I know the Heart, that did the flowers plan. 
Hath thought and ever still doth think of me. 
How much He thinks a thousand voices tell; 
And though the voice from Calvary tells it best. 
That little floweret tells me to rejoice, 
That all is well since I am in His care. 



I'm sure the highest mission of the flower, 

As well as of all else that God has made, 

Is to promote the happiness of man: 

A single color might allure the bee. 

But God has given all the various hues 

To charm the eyes of man His highest work 

And thus to charm his heart. So he who learns 

The deepest lessons, sees the rarest beauty, 

Beholding flower or star, is he who feels 

That God is manifest in these His works. 

The dispensations of His love to man. 



48 POEMS OP HOPE 

XI. 

O! lovely flower! dear, lonely little flower! 
What wealth of wondrous wisdom we should get 
Could we but fully understand your message! 
You dazzle forth your wondrous Maker's glory, 
And call on man to join you in His praise. 
The snow-white lily, type of purity, 
Appeals to men to live a spotless life. 
And every flower has its own sweet meaning; 
For in a thousand ways their ministries 
Are breathing benedictions on our lives, 
That nothing else but flov/ers e'er could bring. 
To try to name their ministries were folly, 
So sacred and so numerous they are. 



XII. 

How short to me the hour I sat and studied 
That happy little flower's up-turned face! 
How much it whispered that I have not written! 
But if you wish to further know its secret, 
Go, learn it as a student in their school; 
And as you better understand the flowers. 
You'll better comprehend yourself and God, 
And know how better to attain perfection. 
For as the sunflower, worshipper of the sun. 
Assumes its likeness by its contemplation. 
So may we, by observing our Creator, 
By coming to regard Him with devotion 
And bend our wills to His divine control. 
Thus come at last to bear His perfect image 
In which at the beginning, man was made. 
And for which, since by sin it has been marred. 
The soul of man will hunger till it come 
Again to satisfy itself in Him. 



POEMS OP HOPE 49 

WHETHER OR NOT 

\yHETHER, my friend, in the coming days 
'^^ You travel smooth and glittering ways 
Or roads overshadowed with gloom and haze 
You may send up to heaven a paean of praise 



Whether your life in the on-going years 
bhall always be happy with love and cheers 
Or mingled with sadness and pain and tears! 
There is One who is near you that always cares 



Whether an object of praise or of plot 
Whether the world shall approve you or not 
Whether remembered by friends or forgot ' 
You ve a true friend in Jesus whatever thy lot 



When some friends forsake you as some always do 
Then look to the Savior whose friendship is true ' 
Whose love is eternal for you, yes for you 
And His love will strengthen and heal and renew 



Be glad, for He listens to all your cries 
He will change your clouds to the fairest skies. 
He will bring you comfort amidst your sighs 
And clear forever your tear-stained eyes 



50 POEMS OP HOPE 



O YE WHO ARE SORROWING 

OYE who are sorrowing, sorrow no more! 
There is calm for your grief-laden breast; 
There is hope for the sinful and balm for the sore, 
And a call for the weary to rest. 



For the same Friend is calling today as of yore 

To the weary and burdened and sad, 
Saying "Come, for your sin and your sorrows I bore, 

Come to Me and find rest and be glad." 



The Savior is able all clouds to make bright, 
All who seek Him, tho' fallen, to raise, 
And the soul that will trust thro' the gloom of its night. 
In the morning shall burst into praise. 



To the land that is brighter than earth's fairest shore. 

Where no sin neither sorrow nor care 
Ever comes, our Redeemer has gone on before 

To prepare us a place over there. 



In the house of the Father, our heavenly home, 

We are going to dwell by and by. 
When, our pilgrimage over, the Savior says "Come 

And inherit the kingdom on high." 



There the ransomed with rapture shall look on His face 

And His transfiguring glory behold; 
For we shall be with Him and share by His grace 

All the treasures of heaven untold. 



POEMS OF HOPE 51 

There no sorrow shall come, for all sin shall be gone. 

And all sickness and sighing and tears. 
And the ransomed shall serve in the light of the throne 

Without toll through the infinite years. 

So now, in the conflict, there streams from above 

A glory which naught can destroy, 
For we know that forever His limitless love 

Shall be ours, with unspeakable joy. 



LOVE NEVER FAILETH. 

AN infant is sick, and with sleepless sight, 
The anxious mother, night after night, 
Watches and nurses her helpless one 
Till the child is well again, or gone. 

A wayward daughter has gone astray, 
And the father's hair is growing gray. 
And the mother's heart will break with sighs 
Till the daughter comes back again, or dies. 

A sinner is straying away from the fold, 
And God is calling him still as of old. 
And the Savior will always be seeking to save. 
Till the sinner comes to the fold, or the grave. 



62 POEMS OF HOPE 



THE SHEPHERD HEART. 

THERE are false and faithless shepherds 
That destroy and scatter the fold. 
And raise no prayer 
Nor have a care 
For the sheep that are hungry and cold. 



But how can they hear the bleating 
And still let them languish for food 
And starve and bleed, 
When they might feed 
And heal them all if they would? 



Yet some seek their own, and are careless 
Of the lambs that wander afar. 

And we weep for the few 

Who will not be true. 
But rejoice for the many who are; 



The many who like the Great Shepherd 
Are giving their lives for the sheep. 

For they feel their need 

And faithfully feed 
Them the Word that can strengthen and keep. 



Such a shepherd may not be gifted, 
Nor versed in science and art. 

But every face 

May find a place 
In his loving shepherd-heart. 



POEMS OF HOPE 53 

He loves the sheep of his pasture, 
And his eyes and hands are quick 

To discern and heed 

Each separate need 
Of a wounded lamb or sick. 

He yearas for the lamb that is wayward 
And seeks for the lamb astray, 
And tries to teach 
His flock, while each 
Grows dearer day by day. 

They are in his thought in the night-time, 
By day they are in his care. 
But he cannot keep 
His precious sheep 
Forever with him there; 

They may leave him, but still he remembers 
And breathes for them often a prayer; 

And, O, it is sweet 

For the shepherd to meet 
With one of his lambs here and there. 

Some leave his fold for another. 
And some go far astray. 

While others go 

From the fold below 
To the fold of endless day. 

They go from out his watch-care 
And pass to another's keep. 

And should he forget, 

There's a Shepherd yet 
Who will never forget His sheep. 



54 POEMS OF HOPE 

And therefore all sheep that are longing 
For shepherds that loved them of yore. 
And the shepherds who weep 
For their scattered sheep, 
Shall soon feel that sorrow no more. 



For we'll greet one another with gladness, 
And never again shall weep; 

When the folds of the past 

Are all gathered at last 
To the Shepherd of all good sheep. 



THE GLORY INEFFABLE. 

AN ineffable glory is gone 
With the days which could not remain, 
The days when the luster of childhood was on 
The hills and the valleys, the woods and the lawn, 
But the halo of glory has strangely withdrawn 
From the earth, and we seek it in vain. 

We still hear the song of the bird, 

And the landscape is green as of yore. 
But something is gone from the music we heard, 
And gone from the landscape that something which stirred. 
And a beauty is gone from the earth, in a word, 

Which nothing can ever restore. 



POEMS OF HOPE 55 

Yet gleams of the glory return, 

And, O, if they only could stay! 
They come through our mem'ries and dreams, and they 

bum 
Through moments of ecstasy, so that we learn 
That the glory ineffable for which we yearn 

Has not utterly vanished away. 



I wonder sometimes when I think 

What the evening of life holds in store, 
If the glory that gilded life's morning shall shrink 
And fade altogether ere life's sun shall sink, 
Or shall it return as we draw near the brink 
Of life's sea and eternity's shore? 

It may be the roseate hue 

That glorified innocent days 
And made them so strangely resplendent, was due 
To the light of the glory-world, dazzling and true, 
And so near to our childhood its glory shined through 

Enshrouding in beauty our ways. 

The morning was wondrously fair. 

But fairer the evening shall be. 
For the stars of life's twilight shall shine out full clear 
And reveal to the pilgrim that heaven is near. 
And a glory supernal shall light him from here 

To the life o'er the border a wee. 



56 POEMS OF HOPE 

ALL-WISE AND GOOD. 



I WOULD not lay to God's account, 
As many simple people do, 
The woes, in large or small amount, 

Which come to me and you; 
For I have come at length to feel and see 
My Father wishes only good for me. 



The cuts and wounds of long ago 

That filled with tears my childish eyes 

Drove me to mother with my woe 
For she could sympathize. 

I, or some other child, had caused the pain, 

But she knew how to make it well again. 



And now I know that all life's ill 

And niisery and death and woe, 
Is but by God's permissive will, 

And men have made it so. 
By sin they make the woes of earth and hell, 
But if they flee to God, He makes them well. 



The child may break his father's will 
And think his counsel is unwise. 

And take the path of folly still 
Against his mother's cries; 

But when he comes to sorrow or to shame 

He cannot say his parents are to blame. 



POEMS OF HOPE 57 

My mother used to hold my hand 

Back from the things I wanted so; 
And father stopped the trips I planned 

To where I should not go. 
I thought it harsh, but now I understand 
Why mother then drew back my infant hand. 

And why she took from out my hand 

The thing I clutched and wished to keep, 

I now can fully understand, 
Tho' then it made me weep. 

And now I thank my parents, since I see 

That what seemed harsh was always best for me. 

Had I rebelled against their rule 

And come to grief as sure I would, 
I hope I would not be the fool 

To say they were not good; 
For this I know, tho' we were sometimes wild. 
They tried to do their best for every child. 

And when this childish life is o'er, 

We'll view our Maker's work and find. 

Beyond what we had dreamed before. 
That all was wise and kind; 

And each shall see, whatever be his goal 

That God has dealt in love with every soul. 

So I, my Father's will prefer 

For while I'm warped and weak and blind. 
He is too wise to ever err. 

Too good to be unkind. 
'Tis when I go against His loving will 
I run to danger, tho' He loves me still. 



58 POEMS OF HOPE 

STRONGER THAN DEATH. 

I HAVE stood by the bed 
When the last word was said 
And no further relief could be given 
To one who was nearer 
And dearer, yes dearer, 
Than everything else under heaven. 



When the time came to part, 

Then the heart — O, the heart 
Cried out for a Friend who is stronger 

Than death, on whose breast 

I could rest, yea could rest 
Tho' my loved one were with me no longer. 



On whose breast I could rest 

And feel it was best 
That my loved one had lingered no longer, 

But had gone on to dwell 
Where 'tis well — all is well 
In the home of our Friend that is stronger. 



To His home up above 

All in love, all in love. 
One by one He our loved ones is taking 

And to those who are here 

He is near, so near. 
To bind up the hearts that are breaking. 



POEMS OF HOPE 59 



THE GATHERED FLOWERS. 

Othe flowers are sweet in the garden, 
J And 'tis pleasant to see them grow 
And to drink in their fragrant perfumes 
That sweeten the breezes so! 

But often the sweetest among them 

We pluck from the stems where they've grown, 

And take them away from the garden 
To make them completely our own; 

We wear them upon our bosoms, 
Or we place them within our rooms. 

And revel all day in the beauty 
And the fragrance of their blooms. 

So the Master of earth's flower garden 
With its blossoms all human and fair. 

Is taking the flowers that please Him 
To heaven; He wants them up there. 

He chooses some flowers that are faded. 
Some budding and others full-blown, 

And He places them there in His presence 
To grow in the light of the throne. 

We miss them in earth's flower garden 
And sigh for the fragrance they made. 

But the Master has given them fragrance 
And beauty that never will fade. 

And since He has wanted them near Him 

To bloom in the warmth of His smile. 
Let's rejoice at their joy, and be ready 
To join them after awhile. 



60 POEMS OF HOPE 



ALL IS WELL. 

ALL is well for God provideth, 
In His love my soul He hideth 
All the way. 
I am safe for He defendeth, 
All is blessing which He sendeth 
Day by day. 

He, whose power the world upholdeth, 
Wondrously my life enfoldeth 

In His love. 
Not one blessing He retardeth 
Not one need but He regardeth 
To our cries! 

So my daily cup He filleth, 

And each wave of trouble stilleth 

With His word. 
Every load of mine He beareth, 
All my cares, because He careth, 

Bless the Lord! 



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